Trill I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day and through
I got the Glock in the duffel bag I’ma get to the money, I can’t get enough of that I’m feelin’ like Future, my new Gucci bucket hat That pussy boy lackin’, where the fuck your [?] at? Don’t say what I say, my nigga, your not tough for that I slide on the opps one time then I double back Glock 19 on my hip and I’m uppin’ that I heard your music nigga, what in the fuck is that? That shit was horrible I carry the stick like a charger that’s portable You got any bitches? That shit was rhetorical I’m ballin’ like Kobe, I’m playin’ in Oracle I’ma get to the money, my niggas gon’ get a check Said he want smoke, I’ma give him a cigarette “Chris got money, where the fuck he get it at? I know he be rappin’ nigga, but it isn’t that” Nigga that’s none of your business Yeah, I’m catchin’ em’ lackin’, spinnin’ Your bitch in the telly, she gaggin’ and spittin’ “Yvngxchris is a bitch,” you gotta be kiddin’ “He spazzin’ my nigga, that gotta be written” And I’m not gonna stop, so I’m stackin’ the millions And that nigga a pussy, that’s just how I’m feelin’ I just came out the trap and I’m smellin’ like gas, man, they thought I was dealin’ Damn, damn I just want the money, I don’t got no time for these bitches These niggas be cappin’, sayin’ that they gang, but only come around when I got the riches Y’all niggas be sayin’ that y’all ride or die, but when the police come in, y’all turn into snitches I’m married to the money, gave it a ring ’cause yvngxchris-o never needed a missus Or maybe I do, but I can’t even tell you They say I’m the shit, they say, “Chris, I can smell you” Say “yvngxchris broke,” nigga I could sell you Free all of my niggas locked up in that cell too I’m smokin’ exotic, got pack in the mail too If I got a problem, my shooter will kill you Your nigga locked up and that gang won’t bail you I stay with that stick, shoutout my nigga L Lou